


Unimaginable

by quantumoddity



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Coping, Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Understanding, Unexpected similarities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8240488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: “How am I supposed to make this better?”“You can’t really kiddo…but you’re already doing everything you can. She just wants you to be there for her…believe me. All I wanted was just to know that I wasn’t alone.”
Alexander watched Theo Burr's life fall apart, desperately trying to work up the courage to help, trying to find the words. Because if there's anyone who understands what she's going through right now, it's him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What follows Theodora Sr's death and how it impacts on her daughter and her best friend, Philip Hamilton.

Alex still had nightmares about it sometimes. He’d jolt awake in the early hours of the morning, sweating and shaking and panting like he’d been running away from something, something that was always just inches behind him, so close to reaching out and pulling him under. It would be a few moments before his breathing would slow to normal, before that sparse, harshly lit hospital room back in Puerto Rico melted back into his own dark bedroom, with his own wife sleeping beside him. He’d sit up a little, push back his hair from his damp forehead, swallow back tears. Sometimes he’d be able to go back to sleep, sometimes he’d lie awake until his alarm went off. Sometimes the tears wouldn’t go back down and he’d wake Eliza. She’d wrap her arms around him and let him sob into her chest, crying with him, for him. The storm would always pass, the sun would always come up and everything would be fine again.

But those memories never really left.

 

He could taste them now, acrid and sour in the back for his throat as he hovered in the kitchen, his dark eyes fixed on Theo Burr as she sat in his garden, looking so small and so fragile, like a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. Alex hugged his arms around himself and sighed.

 

-

 

Alexander still remembered that day.

He’d been vaguely aware that Burr’s daughter had been born around the same time as his Philip, he’d sort of half noticed when Burr disappeared for a week. But, typical Alex, he’d been so wrapped up in his own work, his own impending fatherhood, his own heavily pregnant wife, the fact that the man sat across from him was going through the exact same thing had kind of passed him by. And it wasn’t like he ever really…chatted with Burr anyway. Every word out of Alex’s mouth seemed to irritate him; it was like he winced internally every time he heard his voice. Their relationship as coworkers was strained enough without trying to add anything else into it. It was safest just to stick to case files and litigation, to steer away from the fact that they both had lives outside of the courtroom.

So Alex’s eyebrows had shot up right to his hairline when he’d looked up from his desk one morning to see Aaron Burr stood there, practically doubled over to one side by the weight of a baby’s car seat, one practically identical to the one next to Alex’s left elbow, with Burr looking equally as haggard and exhausted as Alex felt.

The two men blinked at each other for a moment, both more than a little startled to find this commonality, this shared piece of their lives suddenly brought into daylight. It felt a little like they’d both suddenly looked up to see a familiar face that they’d somehow mistook for a stranger.

Alex shook his head like he was trying to clear it and smiled a little awkwardly. He gestured with the end of his pen to where his son was soundly sleeping (for what felt like the first time since he was born).

“Your wife sick too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, keeping his voice low.

Burr managed a small but genuine smile, “She’s at a conference actually.”

“Today’s going to be interesting then, huh?”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, “When isn’t it?”

The two of them actually laughed, chuckling softly. Odd to think that just yesterday Alex was on the verge of punching Burr in the face.

They managed to work through case files fairly easily, both of their heads snapping up every time either baby snuffled or fussed in their sleep. But, surprisingly, things stayed quiet and ran smoothly. Much more than usual, actually.

Alex chewed on the end of his pen thoughtfully, his eyes drifting up from his report over to Burr’s desk. He felt like he should say something.

“Theodosia, right? Like her mom?” he asked, nodding towards the sleeping baby.

Burr looked up, a little surprised, and nodded, “Yes. It’s a family name. My wife’s family, that is.”

“Nice,” Alex smiled, “She’s beautiful.”

And she was, serene and fragile like something sculpted rather than made, with an oddly thoughtful expression for a baby.

Burr tilted his head curiously, “Thank you.” His dark eyes turned to baby Philip; his mess of dark curls falling over his face, his tiny fists pulled tight to his chest like he was squaring up to fight someone. “He looks a lot like you,” he observed, wryly.

Alex grinned crookedly and gave a short laugh. Two jokes in one day from Burr. It was nothing short of a miracle.

As Burr left the office that evening, he turned to Alex, who was bouncing a squawking Philip in one arm while still attempting to awkwardly type on his laptop.

“Good night, Alexander,” he called over the noise before disappearing.

Alexander. Not ‘Hamilton’ in a clipped, vaguely exasperated tone like it always had been since they day they met at law school.

“Well what do you know, Pip?” he murmured, amusedly to his grumbling son, “Think that little girl might be good for him. Might make him a little bit more human.”

 

The next time Alexander saw Theo, she was hanging back shyly after Philip had dragged her over to where he and Eliza were standing in the corner of the playground, waiting for their son at the end of school.

“Mom! Dad!” Philip announced, practically bouncing on his heels, full of the restless energy of a five year old Hamilton, “This is Theo and she’s my best friend!”

“Oh really?” Alex said slowly, recognising those deep eyes that seemed decades older than the rest of her and long nose immediately.

He felt Eliza’s hand tighten around his own. Just ten minutes earlier he had been bitching about some comment Burr had made that day, something about Alex being ‘out of control’. There was a warning in that grasp.

“We’re very happy to meet you, Theo,” Eliza smiled, her voice full of her usual kindness, bending down to meet the girl’s gaze, “We actually know your mommy and daddy pretty well.”

Theo (that must be a nickname, Theodosia _was_ a little grand for a five year old) lifted her chin with a hesitant smile and reached out to shake the hand his wife had offered, Eliza’s gentle nature winning her over just like it always did.

“Hi,” she murmured timidly.

Philip beamed at his dad, his smile stretching all the way to his ears. “She’s my best friend!” he repeated, insistently, with perfect confidence.

Alex sighed internally. It was funny how things worked out sometimes.

 

Apparently when Philip Hamilton said something, he meant it.

From that day on, Theo Burr became something of a permanent fixture in their house. Most nights when he staggered in after work, she could be sat with his son at the kitchen table, both of them doing more chatting or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other than working. Or they’d be watching cartoons on the sofa, lost under a pile of his younger kids, discussing them at length, arguably way more invested than the little ones. Or she’d be sat on the floor next to Eliza’s chair while his wife taught her to knit; his Pip caught in a hopeless tangle of yarn close by.

She’s would always turn to him, all shyness gone, her eyes bright and intelligent, her grin infectious, “Good afternoon, Mr Hamilton.”

“You can call me Alex, Theo,” he’d correct her with a fond smile, usually just moments before Philip ran over and tackled him to the floor in greeting.  

It was nice actually; it was very easy to like Theo. She was funny; witty in the way Burr could be but never was. And Alex couldn’t help but notice how Philip’s eyes lit up every time his dad would drop him off at the Burr house and he’d see Theo waving to him from the stoop. The way he’d talk animatedly at the dinner table about something funny that she’d said, even if Alex and Eliza had actually been around to hear it for themselves. Or how he spent the whole winter wearing the sweater she’d knitted him, even if it was a bit long in the sleeves. He and Eliza shared more than a few knowing smiles while their eldest wasn’t looking.

It was certainly worth the odd awkward encounter with Burr at a birthday party or on the doorstep every other evening as he picked Theo up. No matter what happened between them at work, when they saw their kids together they’d find themselves meeting each other’s eyes with a weak smile. No matter how they felt about each other, they both loved their children.

 

-

 

Nothing was really said outright. There wasn’t a single moment when things turned on their head or the glass floor that they’d all been standing on suddenly broke. It was a gradual thing, which somehow made it worse.

 

It started with small things. Theo would come over to dinner but she’d be curiously quiet, leaving most of the talking to Philip, not even looking like she was really listening. It was like her mind was always somewhere else.

Alex didn’t really work with Burr anymore; they’d both since left their careers as lawyers behind in favour of government work. They crossed paths often and almost never under friendly circumstances, almost like they were cursed or something. But Alex would pass him in the corridor often and ever he could see that something was wrong, that a light that had always been inside of him had been switched off, like he was constantly tensed for a blow that was a long time in coming.

No one really said anything. They all went through the motions of their parallel lives, waiting to see where the first crack would appear.

It was Philip, of course. He was always terrible at keeping secrets and he hated seeing people upset.

One weekend, when there was no sign of Theo at all, Eliza quietly asked him over dinner if she was doing okay, if she was out of town or something? Their son went very quiet and sighed.

“She’s at the hospital,” he admitted eventually, “It’s her mom, Theodosia. She’s really sick. Like…’isn’t going to get better’ sick.”

Eliza’s eyes flickered to Alexander, just for an instant. He worked to keep his face level, to show nothing but concern for Philip.

“She didn’t really want to say anything,” Philip shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable, “She doesn’t want a big deal made out of it or anything but…it’s bad. It’s kind of really bad. Theo’s scared.”

Almost simultaneously, Eliza and Alex reached out and put their hands on Philip’s shoulders comfortingly. Because of course he was scared too. Now that it was out and said, his face had fallen like ruins caving in on themselves, his expression showing the helplessness and stress he’d clearly been hiding for a while now. Pip had his father’s hatred of inactivity, of not having an answer and his mother’s reflexive instinct to fix everyone else’s problems, both his parents could see that this was tearing him up. This was too much for an eleven year old to deal with.

So God only knew how Theo must have been feeling, Alex thought miserably, as he watched his son’s face crumple and his wife pull him into a hug.

 

The next few months were difficult.

Theo seemed to only grow smaller, like she was drifting further and further away from her own body. She’d leave the room quickly, her mouth a hard line and blinking fast, usually after she’d seen Eliza braiding Angie’s hair or sat at the piano with Jamie. Philip would run after her and they’d spend the rest of the evening in his room, leaving the rest of the Hamilton’s with nothing but worried glances.

One day Alex had, despite his best efforts, made one of his usual grating, deliberately inflammatory comments to Burr during some meeting. It was nothing out of the ordinary but afterwards, the moment the room was clear, Aaron slammed his papers down on the desk and simply exploded at Alexander, his voice reaching levels of noise and venom that he just hadn’t thought Burr was capable of. He practically screamed, asking him what the fuck he thought he was doing, didn’t he just want to stop being an asshole for five goddamn minutes?

And Alexander just stood there in shock, blinking, his hands tight at his sides.

Once Burr had finally run out of words, once he was quiet and panting and shaking like he’d run a mile, his eyes full of tears that he refused to let fall, Alex simply nodded.

“I’m sorry, Burr,” he said sincerely, his voice low and soft.

Burr flinched back like he’d been struck. Alex wanted to say more, so much more, but he knew that wasn’t what he needed. He just left, pretending that he didn’t hear the strangled sob that tore from Burr as the door clicked shut.

 

The sword finally fell just after Christmas, just before school started up again. Philip came flying down the stairs at almost midnight, his eyes wide and frantic. He’d frozen with his hand on the doorknob at the polite but curious cough Eliza had directed at him (his plan had obviously been just to sneak out, he’d been expecting his parents to be asleep).

“It’s her mother,” he’d choked out after a while, “She…she’s gone. About an hour ago.”

Eliza’s hand had flown to her mouth with a soft gasp, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Alex had tensed, straightening quickly, stamping down hard on some memories that flared to life inside his brain at those words.

_She’s gone, Alexander. While you were asleep. I’m sorry._

No. Not now.

“Theo really needs me. So I’m going,” Philip had squared his shoulders in determination like he was expecting a fight but not prepared to lose.

He wasn’t going to get one.

“I’ll drive you,” Alex said mutely, getting to his feet, feeling Eliza’s hand linger on his for a second longer than necessary.

They’d both let the car idle outside the Burr’s house for a while, neither of them entirely sure what to do, feeling the weight of the situation press down hard on them, like the air had thickened and was suddenly harder to breathe.

I just don’t know what to say to her,” Philip muttered fretfully, the words bursting out of him like he couldn’t control them, “How am I supposed to make  _this_  better?”

Alex suddenly wanted to cry. He really loved his son.

He gave a heavy sigh, trying to keep the wobble out of his voice and not succeeding, “You can’t really kiddo…but you’re already doing everything you can. She just wants you to be there for her…believe me. All I wanted was just to know that I wasn’t alone.”

Alex didn’t look up but he felt Philip’s huge, surprised eyes fix on him. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

He hadn’t really meant to say that last part. That was supposed to have stayed in his head.

Not that he’d tried to hide his past from his children but he hadn’t exactly broadcast it either. Of course there had been the curious questions when they were younger, about why they only had one set of grandparents when everybody else seemed to have two. Alex stuck to the short version, that his mother had gotten sick and passed away when he was very young and he hadn’t seen his dad in a long, long time, and even that hurt. He’d always turn away as his kids’ faces furrowed in confusion, as the next questions died on their lips when they saw that their dad was clearly uncomfortable. Maybe they then went to Eliza and maybe she gave them a little more, he wasn’t going to ask. He wasn’t going to subject his children to that sorry tale.

_I’m sorry, Alexander. She went while you were asleep. She wasn’t in any pain, at least._

But now here it was, playing out right in front of him again, an observer this time rather than a participant. He’d thought the years and the distance would have softened it but apparently not.

He felt Philip’s arms close around him swiftly, tightly, before he jumped out of the car.

Alex spent a long time sat at the wheel, blinking back tears before he drove off. He was aware of the door opening off to his left, the square of light in the darkness. He was aware of Theo.

But he couldn’t bring himself to look.

 

-

 

Alex hugged himself tightly, rocking on his heels restlessly. He knew what he wanted to do but not entirely sure he had the guts to do it.

It was the first time Theo had been round to the Hamilton’s after her mother had passed away. It had been months. But here she was.

Philip had been hovering around her protectively, as if something was going to come and harm her. He’d taken her out into the garden and the two of them had sat on the porch, heads together, talking softly, while Alex and Eliza kept back the tide of children. Theo didn’t need to be overwhelmed right now.

But Philip had run off to the bathroom a few minutes ago, shooting his parents a look that clearly said ‘keep an eye on her? Please?’ And now Alex was aware of the decision he had to make.

After a while, Eliza put down her mug and Alex felt her cool, sad eyes on him.

“Go and talk to her,” she murmured softly, “I think it would be good. For both of you.”

Alex took a breath, straightening up. Eliza was right, as she usually was.

 

Theo turned when she heard his footsteps on the wood, probably expecting Philip. She jumped a little when she saw Alex stood there.

“Hey Theo,” he tried a small smile.

“Hi Mr Hamilton,” she answered; smiling back though it was hollow, there was nothing behind it. It hurt Alex’s heart to see it. It was unfair.

“Alex,” he corrected, just like always. He motioned with one hand, “Mind if I sit down?”

Theo blinked, stiffened a little, but she eventually nodded.

“Look, honey,” he sighed, once he’d sank down next to her, pulling his legs awkwardly to his chest, “I, uh…I kind of understand what you’re going through.”

Theo turned her eyes down; she didn’t look at him, “Do you?”

Alex gnawed his lip for a moment until the words came out of him in a rush, in a tide, “I lost my mother. When I was your age. Exactly when I was your age, actually.”

Theo turned to him, her expression shocked, “You…really? Philip never….”

“It’s not something I ever really talk about,” Alex said quickly, before the girl could feel any guilt, “But I thought…I thought you’d like to know. That you’re not as alone as you might feel.”

“How did she die?” Theo murmured after a while. She had a right to ask, she knew.

“A fever,” Alex answered, feeling his mouth twist, “That’s something that can actually kill you where I came from, if you can’t afford the medicine…and we couldn’t. I got sick before her actually, we were in the hospital together. I can remember…I can remember crawling out of my bed in the middle of the night and going into her’s. I just needed to hug her and she didn’t even…recognise me. She was just rambling. Talking nonsense. Her skin was so hot, it hurt…but when I woke up it was ice cold. She’d died in the night right next to me.”

Theo gave a small gasp next to him but he didn’t see her face anymore, his eyes were swimming, everything had just become blurs and indistinct shapes.

“And then I was left with nothing. My dad was gone. My mom was gone. I was alone. And all I wanted was someone to understand. But there…wasn’t.”

That was when he felt Theo’s hand on his. She was comforting him, of all things. Despite it all, Alex smiled.

He forced himself to turn to her, running the heels of his hands over his eyes, “But you don’t need to feel like that. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Thank you,” Theo’s voice was a hoarse whisper but he could tell that she meant it. She rested her head on his shoulder and Alex slid an arm around her shoulders.

The two of them just sat there for a long time in the spring sun, listening to the birds and feeling the breeze on their skin. Both of them thought how strange it was, of all the people to understand…

“It’s just…my dad,” Theo said after a while.

Alex made a small noise of agreement. Aaron Burr had been back in work the day after he’d lost his wife and he’d barely left since. He was still there at his desk, working, even after Alex was out of the door. The shadows under his eyes were darker, he had gotten scarily thin in a short space of time, and he barely talked to anyone. Alex knew how it was to try and smother your problems in work, to silence the voices in your head with something easier to understand and process. It didn’t work. It just didn’t work.

“He’s never around. I know mom made him promise he’d…stay. For me. But he…he won’t even _look at me_.”

Theo began to cry, her face crumpling and her shoulders beginning to shake. Alex had a sudden flash, an image, of a small dark haired boy, dangerously thin after his illness, alone in his sparsely furnished room above his mother’s shop, sobbing so hard he felt like he was going to be sick, crying and praying to whoever was listening for someone, anyone to come and tell him it was going to be okay. He pulled Theo towards him and hugged her tightly, pressing her against him, the way he wished so desperately he could hold that little boy, they little boy he’d been and still was, in some part of him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Alex sighed, once Theo had stopped shaking.

Theo had heard so many people say that since she’d heard her mother whisper her name for the last time. Nurses, teachers, her friends. And every time, she’d heard it, she’d wanted to scream. Because what a fucking stupid thing to say, how was any of this going to be okay?

But when Alex said it, she actually believed him.

 

-

 

Alex passed Burr’s office on his way out. The light was still on behind the door.

It had been three months. Theo had been spending more and more time at his house, as if she was avoiding her own. And he couldn’t blame her.

Alex had told himself he wasn’t going to say anything, that it wasn’t his place. But he saw that light shining through the frosted glass, the silhouette of Burr still hunched over at his desk, working rather than feeling.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He wasn’t going to let another kid feel like he’d felt. It wasn’t fair, god damn it.

Burr didn’t even look up when Alex pushed the door back. But even from here, Alex winced almost reflexively at the sight of him. He looked like he was dying.

‘Hey, Burr,” Alex called, unable to keep the sharpness out of his voice.

He looked up, his eyes glazed with what was either exhaustion or just pain. He blinked, like he wasn’t quite seeing what was in front of him.

‘What? Hamilton?” Burr’s voice cracked like he hadn’t used it in days. Or like he’d been crying for hours on end.

“It isn’t just about you, for God’s sake,” Alex, growled, his hands in tight fists, his eyes blazing, “You have a _daughter_ , Aaron. And she needs you. _Wake up_.”

He was gone before Burr could react, the door shutting being him with a slam that rattled the glass.

Aaron’s mouth fell open, what he’d just heard slowly dawning on him. He blinked, feeling pain flowering in his chest and tears burning in his raw eyes.

“I…I’m sorry,” he gasped into the empty room.

Though who he was talking to, he couldn’t say.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of my writing is now on my tumblr blog, quantum-oddity. Come chat!


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